


CoSL 05: Moving On

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [5]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Sloane is human, but still ready to kill, episode redo, gets closer to them, has fun with the others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: PART 5 OF THE CASEBOOK OF SLOANE LARSONThis one goes over "A Dish Best Served Cold" and "One Night Stand"Sloane and the others have to deal with people exploding in trees, a restaurant run by pigs, and later a drowning death perpetrated by modern mermaids. In between Sloane gets closer to the others and finally finds a new place to live thanks to Rosalee. But will that be enough for her to settle down into a routine with roots set up?





	CoSL 05: Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> Double update month! This chapter is short compared to the previous ones, so I decided to go ahead and upload it. It's nice to finally put out that Sloane has interests outside of killing things too. Hope you enjoy!

_A Dish Best Served Cold_

\----------------------

Nick parked his car and exited, heading out of the garage and towards the station. Yesterday was his physical and while usually he was at least a little sore the next day, he felt perfectly fine. He chalked it up to another strange side-effect and tried not to worry. After all, less fatigue would normally be a good thing. It had certainly been nice not to feel tired last night when he got to talk things over with Juliette some more.

He was surprised to Sloane exiting the garage just ahead of him. “Sloane!”

She paused and looked back. She didn’t exactly smile but she visibly relaxed. “Oh, hey. How was the doctor’s visit?”

Nick sighed a little. “Not…informative, exactly.”

“How do you mean?”

“I had no problem passing. And by that I mean my heartrate didn’t change hardly a beat while I was running on a treadmill for almost thirty minutes, upping the speed every few minutes. I didn’t even breathe hard.”

Her eyebrows rose up. “That’s…different. I mean Grimms have great stamina, but thirty minutes of constant running would still normally get to us.”

“Yeah. The doctor thinks his machine must be broken, but I didn’t sweat or feel anything either. Juliette and I think Rosalee was right, that stuff the Cracher-Mortel spat at me affected me differently than a normal human...”

“Well, so far not in a bad way after you took the antidote…right? I mean, upped endurance sound pretty good.”

“Eh…I scared Juliette one night when I apparently looked dead…” he admitted.

She paused, giving him a hard look, “Hold up, “looked dead”?”

“Yeah. I was pale, not breathing and my pulse was…gone by her account.”

Sloane frowned and Nick could swear it was in worry. “Okay, I take it back, that’s not good…”

“You don’t know anything about it?” he asked hopefully.

Sloane shook her head. “I looked through the stuff I have with me and found nothing on a cracher-mortel. Or what that toxin could do to a Grimm.”

Nick sighed. “I didn’t find anything about a Grimm getting hit with it either…”

Sloane hesitated before looking at him a bit more openly anxious. “If it gets worse, say so. I can head to where the rest of my collection is; see if I have anything there. Or—and to be honest, this is a last resort—I can send word out to other Grimms who might have information. We figured out how to get you back, we’ll figure out how to deal with it.”

Nick couldn’t help but smile a little. ““We”?”

Sloane rolled her eyes and held up her hands in mock surrender as she turned to head towards the station again. “I still have many, _many_ reservations about this set up…but at the very least, Rosalee is tolerable and…”

“And?” he prompted teasingly.

“And you’re all growing on me. Like a fungus,” she added in disgust.

Nick laughed and swatted her shoulder. “Gee, thanks!” She smirked and started heading for the station again, but Nick was still smiling. He had to admit Sloane calling Rosalee by her first name was good progress, admitting she liked them was great, though she was obviously still defensive towards Monroe. “They like you too you know.” Sloane looked back at him with an unimpressed expression. “Well, Rosalee does. She’s still happy with you fixing her car.”

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Sloane muttered, looking actually a little flustered. “Not like it was the transmission…”

They were at the doors when Hank was just in front of them, phone in hand.

“Oh good, there you two are!” he said. “No time to get comfortable, we got to get going.”

“Where?” Nick asked.

“Little picnic in the woods. Dead body in a tree.

“In a tree?”

“That's what they said.”

“Huh, been a while since I’ve seen that,” Sloane said.

\--------------------

“You know, I take back what I said earlier, I’ve never seen this,” Sloane said, grimacing a little. The man in the tree was odd, but the fact his insides were spilling out through his stomach was rank. The crime team was already working on getting the victim down after taking cursory photos of the scene. “They say variety is the spice of life or whatever, but I’m getting real tired of feeling like this city just loves making my years of being a Grimm feel like I’ve just been doing the same old thing…” she added more quietly.

“Do you think a wesen did this?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, this one I’m pretty sure a human can’t do…just saying. Wild animal also doesn’t seem likely, I don’t see anything that would mean they bit or clawed him open from here…Which I admit, also rules out some wesen.”

“So it’s not a Teufels Kralle—” Nick started with a teasing smile.

“Finish that sentence, Burkhardt, I dare you,” she said, pointing at him. Nick just smiled.

They got the victim down, Hank reaching his gloved hand around and pulling his wallet out to look at the ID. “Yeah, that's him. Name's Ned Klosterman. Lives in Portland.”

He handed the wallet to Wu, who looked it over as well. “Ironically, he's an organ donor, although I'm not sure who'd want what's left.” There was a moment of silence, everyone giving him a rather judging look. Even Sloane was a little surprised by the dark humor. Wu frowned and turned. “I'll run the name.”

The detectives turned to look back at the body. “Someone must have ripped him open,” Hank said.

“Yeah, or took a chain saw to him,” Nick said.

“…Actually…It kind of looks like they blew him up from the inside like a balloon?”  Sloane said, tilting her head slightly. “I have no idea how you would do that…except maybe shove an airtube in him.

“And on that note, perhaps we should probably head back and contact his next of kin,” Nick said, trying not to imagine someone pumping air into a man like a cartoon character. They headed back to the station and it was easy enough to get ahold of Ned’s wife quickly. She visibly shaken and distraught, still crying when she came down to talk them, but muscled through the questions.

“Everything seemed fine,” she said, trying to speak clearly. “He went to work, and so did I.”

“Did you talk to him during the day?” Hank asked, keeping his tone gentle.

“No, we were both pretty busy,” she said, sniffing and looking regretful.

“What time did you get home?” Nick asked, also keeping it gentle. Sloane was staying quiet, just taking notes.

“I got home around 6:00, and, um, he normally gets home by 7:00,” she said, focusing on the facts. “And when he wasn't home by 8:00, I called his work, and they said he left early. So when he didn't come home, I called the police,” her voice cracked at the last word and she quickly brought the tissues back up to her face to blot her tears.

“Was everything going okay with your marriage?” Hank asked.

She looked a bit annoyed by the question, but nodded “Yes. It was great. We celebrated our fifth anniversary two nights ago. We went out to dinner.”

“Any problems that night?” Hank asked.

“No. We were happy. We were really happy,” she said, her face contorting in grief.

“Do you know anyone who would want to harm your husband?”

She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears again but not succeeding. It took her a moment to find her voice. “Just please find who did this to him.”

They wrapped things up and Mrs. Klosterman left, heading back to the precinct. Nick looked at Sloane, who was typing up a copy of her notes for them. “You were oddly quiet…”

She glanced up at him and then back at the computer screen. “You two are better with grieving spouses than I am. I often end up saying the wrong thing.”

“Oh? Why?”

Sloane sighed and leaned back in her chair. “…Marriage and love aren’t things I can really relate to, so trying to force myself to empathize or remain distant ends up either in my saying something dumb or something callous. I can fake it for a bit, but there’s always something that trips me up.”

Nick and Hank blinked in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean you can’t relate?” Hank asked.

She shrugged. “My grandfather was long dead by the time I was born. My mother was never married and didn’t really stick around after I was born, leaving my grandmother to raise me. None of the other major influences in my life were married or I didn’t know them well enough to really get an idea for it. Then going on hunts…you see a lot of the bad sides of romance. Wesen can have some scary mating rituals. And humans don’t seem to fair much better. Far as I’m concerned, it’s just not necessary, especially nowadays.”

Nick frowned a little. “Well, maybe not necessary…but people like to do it. As a show of their love.”

“Not sure people would have to show it if it was love,” Sloane said. “I mean, wouldn’t two people who love each other just be content to know they did? Why make a big show of it? But then, I’m still not sold on “true love” either, so…”

“Even after it saved me?” Nick pointed out.

“I don’t know what saved you with the Muse, but having history with Juliette definitely helped. But saying it’s true love is a lot of pressure I’d think. It’s not something I think I’d want.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame you, I’ve felt that way sometimes,” Hank said. “But at the same time, I still believe Miss Right is out there and will become _the_ Mrs. Griffin.”

Sloane shrugged again. “That’s fine, but to me I think too much importance is placed on those sorts of feelings. And all too often, it just ends up in divorce or someone cheating or getting your feelings hurt some way anyway, so why bother? Or to put it another way, like I said, there’s too much pressure in being someone’s “soulmate”. Then you’re putting all your happiness in being with one person.”

Nick sighed a bit. “Because sometimes…you meet someone and they feel like they’re your other half.”

“And what if I think I’m whole on my own?” Sloane shot back.

“Okay, other half is a bad expression” Nick acknowledged. “But like…when you’re with someone who just _gets_ you. Who you have fun with, and can talk with about the serious and the stupid stuff, and leaves you little notes and gifts just to brighten your day…When you feel lonely without them sometimes and you want to share everything…It makes the rough stuff I had to go through as a cop, and now as a Grimm, worth it.”

Sloane looked at him and sighed. “You’re a hopeless romantic too…”

“I guess so, yeah,” he said, blushing faintly.

“Well, I’m sorry but I don’t think I can share your ideal. Closest I’ve ever come to falling in love…well, it was two times and neither ended well,” she said with a grimace. “So I think I’m just going to opt out. Frankly, Grimms just don’t-” She paused and looked up at Nick. “…Nevermind.”

“What?” Nick asked. He was still blushing a little, but was also curious about the look.

“Nothing you want to hear, I do know that, and I should practice a little tact I’m told,” she said, finishing typing. “I’m going to go grab something to drink, back in a sec.” She stood and headed off while Nick frowned a little.

“Sloane has a pretty cynical view on that stuff…” Hank said.

“Surprised?”

“Eh…not exactly, but it’s still kind of sad…I mean, if that’s how she really feels and she doesn’t want all that, it’s fine. But I wonder if it’s just what she’s convinced herself of after living like she has…I convinced myself that love was stupid more than once when I got my heart broken.”

Nick nodded a little and sat down to keep looking through files. When Hank was engrossed with his own work, Nick brought up the DMV record of the man he’d killed at the bar while under Baron Samedi’s drug. The man was not a paragon of the community, but it was still a life on his hands. And the scary thing was that moment that used to be lost in the fog of a zombie drug was getting clearer over time. It was hard to remember the moment his hands connected with the man. Sighing he stood up. Hank was off somewhere but Sloane looked up curiously. “Just going to go ask the Captain something.”

She arched her eyebrows but nodded. “Okay then.”

He went over to the office, knocking before entering. Renard was packing up his briefcase and looked up when he came in. His nervous expression was probably hard to miss. “Problem?”

Nick hesitated but nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. The man I killed, Mitchell Zinc, I... “

“Accidentally killed,” Renard interjected.

“Well, that's not the point,” Nick said. Renard quirked a brow, not looking impressed. “I killed him...” Nick said more emphatically.

“Yeah, I know. And you're bothered by it,” he said, looking more impatient.

“Yes, I am. I'm beginning to remember.”

Renard stood, giving him a hard look. “Let me ask you something, Nick. What's really bothering you, the fact that you killed somebody or the fact that you killed somebody who wasn't wesen?” Nick froze at the comment and the look on Renard’s face. “Because God knows you've killed plenty of them.” He closed the briefcase and grabbed his jacket. “That's what you Grimms do, isn't it? That’s what Sloane was always saying, but I thought you were different, and so did you. But maybe you’re not if none of their deaths bother you as much as this. Now, excuse me. I've got a meeting with the mayor.” He brushed past a shocked Nick but paused at the door to look at him. “When you have an answer, let me know.” He left and Nick wanted to say something, anything, but all he could think of were Renard’s words. He left the office and moved back towards his desk to see Hank and Sloane already standing.

“Hey, we got another tree hugger,” Hank said, moving past him to head on out. Nick was surprised but turned to follow, Sloane with him.

She looked at him and frowned. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah…” he said, not looking at her.

“…That was believable,” she said sarcastically. “Want another go?”

Nick sighed, feeling aggravated. Renard’s question of whether the guilt he felt was because he was human, considering the wesen he’s killed, still gave him a sick feeling. Sloane never seemed conflicted about wesen being killed, but she was showing a lot of compassion now. Were Grimms just wired naturally not to care about wesen? Did that make him different since he cared about Monroe and Rosalee and the others? Or not since he also never had trouble killing the violent ones?  “I…later, okay? We’ve got a job to do.”

“Okay…”

The next victim ended up being a woman, Stephanie Robinson, but in the same situation as the first. Up a tree, her insides now outsides.

“Same M.O. We got ourselves a serial killer here?” Hank said, looking up at the victim.

“Oh please, not another one,” Sloane sighed. “I already had to deal with one this month…”

“I’m not sure it is. This is a completely different kind of victim. So what's the connection between the two?”

“Besides the tree?” Hank asked.

“And the hollowed out insides?” Sloane added.

Nick gave her an unimpressed look and turned back to Wu. “Anybody see her climb up there?”

“Uh, even if they did, it's not that unusual in Portland,” he said.

Nick sighed again. “Where's the car?”

“This way.” He led them over to a gray sedan parked up the street from the park. The three detectives put on gloves as they went, preparing to look it over. “Purse is on the front seat. That's where I got her license and work I.D. Other than that, that's how I found it.”

 Nick picked up the purse and examined it, pulling some slips of paper from one fold. “Got some receipts here.” He passed them out so they could look over them. “One from the Apple store yesterday, another from Target.”

“Gas station, a dry cleaner,” Sloane said, shrugging a bit.

“Two days ago, she went to a spa. The night before last, looks like she went to dinner at Raven & Rose,” Hank said.

“Raven & Rose? Aw! Love that place,” Wu said. “Chef Ostler? Genius. Which is why you can't get a reservation unless you want to eat at 5:00.” They looked at him blankly and he flushed, looking down. “Off topic.”

 “Parking receipt,” Nick went on, but then Hank held up a hand.

“Wait a minute. Didn't Klosterman and his wife have dinner for their anniversary?”

Nick blinked but then nodded slowly. “Yeah, but we didn't get the name of the restaurant.”

“Maybe the victims knew each other.”

“Well, they couldn't have gone together. This is dated from last night,” Nick said, pointing to the date.

“But still, they died the same way. There might be a connection.”

“Doesn’t hurt to check I guess,” Sloane said.

Nick nodded slowly. “We should call Mrs. Klosterman…Why don’t you do it, Sloane?”

She frowned. “Me?”

“Yeah. You need to get used to talking to witnesses and victim’s friends and family.”

“I told you, I’m not the best—”

“You get better with time and practice,” Nick said, pulling out his notes and pointing out her number. Sloane looked at Hank but Hank gestured for her to go on. Sighing, she took the notes and walked off a bit, taking out her phone to dial the number. She waited for the phone to pick up and tried to center herself into her “empathetic” mode. When it picked up, a rather tired voice spoke. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Klosterman? Um, hello, sorry to bother you. This is Detective Larson.”

“Oh, hello…Did you find something?” she asked hopefully.

“I…sort of. We’re considering a lead,” she said evasively, not thinking that revealing there was another dead body up a tree would do anyone any good. “I just have a quick question. You went out to dinner with your husband for your anniversary, right?”

“Yes…?”

“What was the name of the restaurant?”

“Um…The Raven & Rose.”

Sloane’s eyebrows shot up. “Really…”

“Does that help?” she asked.

Sloane nodded to herself and to Hank and Nick. “Yes, it does. Thank you very much. That's all I needed.” She was about to hang up when Nick gestured for her to go on. She gave him an exasperated look, hesitating, but went on. “…I’m…very sorry for what’s happened. I didn’t get the chance to say so yesterday…”

She sniffed and took a breath. “Thank you…Please, let me know about what happens.”

“We’ll do our best.” She then hanged up.

“Okay, not bad,” Hank said. “You’re not as frosty as you think.”

“Frosty?” She asked, confused. Shaking her head, she handed Nick’s notebook back to him. “In any case, Raven & Rose is apparently popular.”

They nodded, finished going over the car for any more clues, and then returned to the station. Hank pulled up the background on the chef in charge of The Raven & Rose.

“"Chef Graydon Ostler is a celebrated, award-winning chef and restaurateur who trained at the Cordon Bleu in Paris and the I.C.C. in Munich,”” Hank read from the restaurant’s website. ““He has just returned from Europe to open a new restaurant in Portland. According to food critic Gustav York, "Raven & Rose is the shining star in his expanding food universe."””

“"Food universe." Really?” Nick asked in an amused tone.

“Agreed, little hokey…” Sloane said.

“Without a connection between the victims or someone at the restaurant, we have no motive. We may not even have a murder,” Hank sighed.

“All we have is two people who ate there, climbed trees, and blew up,” Nick said.

“Hey, something made them die like that. Even if it was an accident, I’m pretty sure we should find out if we don’t want more people dying…” Sloane said. Hank and Nick nodded, knowing she had a point.

 “That's enough to look at their menu,” Hank said, standing.

“Alright, but don’t actually eat anything, I really don’t want to actually see someone blow up…” Sloane said as she grabbed her (new again, thanks to the incident with Gant) jacket. She glanced towards Renard’s office and paused, seeing a rather intense look on his face as he talked on a cellphone. Shaking it off, she followed them out to the car.

The restaurant was a nice looking one, reminding her of tavern-house pubs in England and Germany but a little more modern and upscale. Hank stood off to the side and Nick knocked on the door. A waiter came to the door, looking at them reproachfully. “I'm sorry; we don't open for another half hour.” Nick and Sloane opened their jackets to show their badges, while Hank also turned from the side to show his hanging around his neck. The waiter blanched. “Oh…” He quickly unlocked the door and opened it.

“We need to talk to Graydon Ostler,” Hank said.

The waiter shook his head, smiling nervously. “Oh, no, you don't understand. He gets pretty stressed just before we serve dinner, so...”

There was sudden shouting from beyond the room, and Sloane and the others all turned to look towards the kitchen. “No, no, no!” There was a crash and the sound of something possibly breaking. “Get away from the stove! You're turning my sauce into cheese!” More crashing and Sloane looked at Nick and Hank.

“I think we can find him,” Nick said with a nod, heading towards the commotion with his two partners following.

“Back up! You will destroy my reputation!” Looking through a row of shelving holding pots and plates, they could see a man in a chef’s jacket brandishing a cleaver as he yelled at his staff. “How many times do I have to teach you the meaning of cuisine? This is an art, not carpentry!” He brought the cleaver down and imbedded it in a cutting board with a loud “thwak”. He then looked at his staff and woged into a pig like creature. All around him his staff woged as well into the same piggy faces. “Get back to your stations, now!” He shouted through his jowly, snouted lips.

Both Nick and Sloane were eyeing them now, Nick with a look of resignation and Sloane with a predatory glint. “What?” Hank asked, lost.

“Wesen,” Nick said.

“What kind?”

“Bauerschwein,” he and Sloane said together.

“Ostler?”

“All of them,” Nick said.

“This should be fun,” Sloane quipped, though she looked as put out as Hank and Nick as they headed around the corner. The chef was as combative as they expected, defensive that they in anyway accused his restaurant of being part of two people dying. In the end though they got him to agree to give them information on what the victims ate and his staff. Back at the station they went through the information, but it wasn’t proving very useful.

“Neither of the victims ordered the same thing,” Hank sighed. “Klosterman had osso buco; Robinson had Halibut with huckleberry sauce. They both ordered wine. He had Pinot noir, she had sauvignon blanc.”

“No one on this list has a criminal record, including the chef. And Klosterman's wife didn't recognize any of these names,” Nick said, feeling a little frustrated. Sloane was just as much at a loss as she looked over the info.

Wu walked up then, holding a folder. “Got the tox screens back on your vics.”

“Well, I assume you've read them?” Hank asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Of course.”

“Then just tell us.”

Wu sighed and said bluntly. “No known pathogens. No known poisons or toxins. You got nothing.” He dropped the folder on Nick’s desk and headed off again.

“Yeah, nothing except a kitchen full of bauerschwein,” Nick said, knowing in his gut there was something wrong.

“We can't arrest 'em for that,” Hank sighed.

“Maybe we should try something else…” Sloane muttered, about to likely suggest something very illegal.

“No,” Nick said. She shot him an annoyed look but went back to looking over the reports.

\-----------------

That evening, Sloane was going through her usual workout routine, doing push-ups in her motel room. She was still apartment hunting and having no real luck. “65…66…67…” she grunted quietly. When her phone rang she sighed and stood up, walking over to her nightstand. She hesitated at the name that popped up but answered it. “Hey…”

“Hey,” Rosalee said. “Sorry to call so suddenly…Um, are you busy?”

“…Not exactly, just working out.”

“Great! I mean, um…would you be interested in coming to a really small kind of …party?”

Sloane blinked. “Party?”

“Yeah. See, you know Nick’s been staying with Monroe for a while?”

Sloane frowned automatically. “I’m aware, yes.”

“Well, he’s actually moving out tonight and back home with Juliette. So we’re throwing a little moving out party. As a surprise.” It was quiet for a few seconds and Rosalee took a breath. “There, uh, will be drinks and cake…”

“Why are you inviting me?” she asked suspiciously.

“Well…You’re Nick’s friend. And…mine.”

Sloane blinked, feeling sudden warmth in her that was unfamiliar. “…Friend might be stretching it on both counts…”

Rosalee was quiet now for a second before taking a breath. “Not to me,” she said. “I’m inviting you for that reason.”

“…The Blutbad will be there?”

“It is Monroe’s home, so yes…but so will Hank, and Juliette. And a friend of ours you haven’t met, Bud. He’s, um…an Eisbieber.”

“…I’m not going to do much to an eisbieber, they don’t worry me,” she said, picking up on the questioning tone in her voice.

“So you’ll come?” Rosalee said hopefully. “Please? I think Nick would like you there. I would.”

Sloane sighed. “I…Fine, okay.”

“Great! Can you be here in an hour?”

Sloane looked at the clock. “Probably, yeah. Do I…bring anything?”

Rosalee chuckled at the hesitant, unsure question. “No, just yourself.”

“Alright. I guess…see you soon.”

“See you soon.” They hanged up and Sloane spent almost a minute staring at her phone. She contemplated blowing the whole idea off, but instead took a quick shower and changed into her jeans and a decent (though still plane as the rest of her shirts) T-shirt and her jacket. She looked at her knife and decided to bring it but leave it in the car. As strange as it was, she trusted Rosalee. She’d tried to save her when she was fighting Gant and though she knew she’d had it covered, the fact that she’d risked herself to help a Grimm that barely tolerated her and the victim of a homicidal human had gained Sloane’s respect.

Driving to Monroe’s house, she parked down the street where she saw Hank’s car and got out to walk towards it. As she approached, the back gate open up and Rosalee beckoned her over with a voice just above a stage whisper. “Sloane, over here! Come through the back door.”

Sloane hesitated again on instinct but then walked over and followed her through the gate. In back, Juliette and Hank were waiting on the back porch. Hank smiled when he saw her. “Hey, you did come.”

“Well…Rosalee is convincing,” she said, feeling a little awkward. That was a new feeling and she didn’t like it much.

He nodded and then stood aside. “Bud, you haven’t met Sloane yet, have you?”

“Sloane?” He came forward, a stout middle-aged man with graying blonde hair and a mustache-beard combination, wearing a floral Hawaiian shirt. “Oh, hey! Nick’s told me a little about you.”

“Really?” she asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah,” he ambled forward with a smile and stuck out his hand. “Rupert Ferdinand Wurstner. But everyone calls me Bud.”

“Ah, the Eisbieber,” Sloane said. She glanced at his hand and when Rosalee not so subtly nudged her she took it and gave it a shake.

“Yeah! So, uh, I’m not clear though. Nick says you were training him, but you are obviously in the know so…are you Kiershite like Hank and Juliette or…”

Rosalee’s eyes widened, realizing that Monroe and Nick hadn’t told him. “Bud-”

“I’m a Grimm,” Sloane said simply. Bud’s eyes widened and he woged, looking at her eyes. He opened his mouth, possibly to yell, and quick as a flash Sloane’s hand was over his mouth. “Don’t.” She glanced at Rosalee and the others. “…Please.”

He nodded slowly, changing back to his human face and she took her hand back. “Sorry, just…wow…another Grimm. Kind of a surprise. Are, you uh…like Nick?” He asked hopefully.

Sloane tried not to look as uncomfortable as she felt. “Not exactly…but we have an agreement, so I guess I am for now.”

“Oh. Well, if Rosalee trusts you, then you’re great!” he said, smiling as he shook her hand again and let go.

Sloane blinked, surprised at how quickly he accepted her. Hank and Juliette were smiling as well, as if sharing some sort of inside joke.

“Okay, so Monroe is helping Nick pack and when he gives us the signal we go inside, and then shout surprise!” Rosalee said.

“…So…we’re sneaking up on him?”

“Kind of,” Hank said.

“Have you never been to a surprise party before Sloane?” Juliette asked.

“I’ve honestly been to very few parties that didn’t involve hunting…” she said. “So…yeah.”

“Oh…” Juliette said, looking apologetic. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay, really,” Sloane said, shrugging. It felt more like a nervous twitch. She was quickly feeling like this was a mistake. Rosalee, Hank, they had an odd effect on her, made her nervous to try and stay on their good side. It was annoying. Before she could turn around and leave though, they heard a window upstairs close.

“Okay, that’s our sign to get in and set up!” Rosalee said. She opened the door quickly and they all filed in. Bud picked up a plastic cake box, about as big as his chest, from the table nearby and carried inside. He almost knocked over a chair and Hank quickly grabbed it, everyone worried Nick would hear them. When they heard steps coming down the stairs, they all made sure they couldn’t be seen from the front door and waited. Opening her senses, Sloane could hear Nick asking Monroe about the restaurant from the case and rolled her eyes a little. From what she knew about him, it didn’t surprise her that the blutbad was interested in such a stuffy place. Or that Nick still had his head in the case.

They headed back down the hall, Nick packing his toothbrush away in a bag. “Well, I think this just about does it,” he sighed. Sloane glanced around the corner, wondering what the “signal” was.

“Here, let me help you,” Monroe said. He lifted a box, handing it to Nick. He then lifted the second box and set it on top of the box Nick already held, making him grunt and sway a little.

“Unh! Monroe, I thought you said you were gonna give me a hand,” he said, trying to move under the bulky weight.

“Yeah, I am, 'cause I got... I got the bag,” he said. Sloane’s lips twitched just a tiny bit, practically able to picture Nick’s exasperated look behind the boxes as he shuffled to the door.

“Could you get the door for me?”

Monroe set the bag down. “You're not actually going anywhere just yet…” Rosalee gently prodded Sloane as they all stood. Monroe took the top box off and they all came out from the kitchen.

“Surprise!”

Sloane could freely admit she was slightly less enthusiastic, more because she felt a little silly, but the look of confusion turning to a smile on Nick’s face was…enjoyable.

“Surprise? For what? It's not my birthday,” he laughed, looking at all of them.

“It's for your leaving,” Monroe said.

“Oh, yes. And we're pretty excited about it,” Rosalee laughed.

“So my wife baked a cake!” Bud exclaimed. “She doesn't need much of an excuse.”

Nick smiled and then looked at Sloane. “I’m…Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m surprised you came.”

Sloane gave him a stony faced look. “I’m not here for you…I came for the cake.” Nick blinked and there was a moment of silence before she smirked a little.

He gave a bark of laughter and patted her shoulder, Rosalee laughing as well. “I keep forgetting you do have a sense of humor somewhere in there!”

“What are you talking about? I’m hilarious,” she said with the same deadpan delivery.

“To yourself maybe,” he said, pushing her along gently.

They went to the kitchen, pouring some champagne and cutting into the cake, which was decorated to look like a suitcase with “bon voyage” written across it and decorative, edible travel stickers. “Bud, this cake is so gorgeous,” Juliette said. “Where's your wife?”

“With the kids. Somebody's got to watch 'em. God knows what they'll chew up when you're not home.” The all laughed, Sloane mostly just smiling as comfortably as she could.

Monroe lifted his glass. “All right, now, I just want to say, for a roommate who's a Grimm... and I really mean this...” The phone suddenly rang and he paused, frowning.

“I’ll get it,” Rosalee said, leaving the group to go answer it.

“So where was I?”

“You were about to tell me how great I am,” Nick said, his arm around Juliette.

“Actually, I was about to say how great I was for putting up with you, but yeah, you were okay too.”

Sloane glanced between the two of them. Though she still didn’t trust Monroe—how could she, he was a Blutbad— she couldn’t overlook that he and Nick did seem to have a stable, good friendship. At least what she assumed was one, she had little experience herself.

“Uh, can we get to the drinking part?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, let's do this.”

“Yeah! Cheers.” They all said, toasting their glasses.

They were about to drink when Rosalee called to them, looking worried. “Hey, Kimber's on the phone. Something's happened to Sam. She's calling everyone looking for him.”

Monroe frowned, setting his glass down. “What?” He quickly strode over and took the phone, moving away from them to talk. Rosalee came back to join them, obviously worried.

“Who's Sam?” Nick asked.

“He's a friend of Monroe's. I just met him at a restaurant the other night.”

“What happened to him?” Bud asked.

“He hasn't come home, and he's not answering his phone, so she's very concerned.”

Sloane frowned as well. Monroe hanged up and came back to them. “Okay, this is weird. Kimber says Sam snapped this morning, that he woke up and his eyes were kind of glassy. He didn't feel well, but he went to work anyway, and now she can't find him. And this is not like Sam.”

“Did he eat at Raven & Rose?” Nick asked. Sloane looked at him, wondering why that was his first thought.

“Yeah, that's actually where we ran into him,” Monroe said.

“I love that place. A little pricey but worth it,” Bud interjected.

“All right, is he a Blutbad?” Nick asked.

“Sam? Uh, yeah, why?” He was getting confused and despite not sure how he came to this conclusion, Sloane was starting to see his line of reasoning.

“We're working on a case. We've got two dead bodies, and both of them ate at the Raven & Rose in the last few days.”

“Do you know Ned Klosterman or Stephanie Robinson?” Hank asked, in detective mode now as well.

“Ned, I do, yeah. Why?”

“They were the two victims.” Monroe gaped but Nick pressed on. “Is Ned a Blutbad?”

“Yeah, yeah, he... he's one of my old sort of hunting buddies, you know, from...” Sloane glared at him, feeling her anger rise. She knew he must’ve been a beast once, never mind being vegan or whatever now. She balled her hands up tightly but kept her urge to strike him down. “Oh, my God!” he sat down heavily in shock, Rosalee rubbing over his shoulder.

“What about Stephanie Robinson?” Hank asked.

“Um, I don't know. I don't know her,” he said, trying to collect his thoughts.

“But Ned is and the events leading up to their deaths are similar,” Nick said, looking at Hank and Sloane.

“I guess we have another connection,” Sloane bit out. It was hard to keep the distaste out of her voice. Nick frowned at her and she looked away.

“Monroe, we're gonna need Sam's license plate,” Hank said. “We're gonna have to put an A.P.B. out on his car.”

“Uh, right. Okay,” he stood, going back to the phone to recall Kimber.

Rosalee stepped closer to them. “What's going on?”

“The restaurant is run by bauerschwein, and we think that they're somehow targeting Blutbaden,” Nick said.

“Oh, God! Oh, God! This is really bad,” Bud said, starting to get fidgety. “Bauerschwein going after Blutbaden? I mean, isn't it sort of the other way around?”

“You'd be surprised,” Nick said.

“Why though?” Sloane asked. Bud was taking the cake to put into the fridge.

“Near as I can tell, it’s a thing between the two wesen species. Bauerschwein and Blutbaden have this long standing grudge against each other. It’s not the first time we’ve had to deal with it.”

“Huh…Never thought I’d agree with a wesen…” she muttered.

Rosalee frowned at her. “Sloane…”

“What? Just because I’m okay with you doesn’t mean I’m going to start feeling warm and fuzzys for a bunch of blutbaden,” she said.

“Well, one happens to be my boyfriend,” she said defensively.

Sloane glowered back.

“Rosalee, you said that Monroe ate there,” Juliette said, trying to get back on topic. “What did he eat?”

“Uh, I don't remember,” she said, trying to think now.

Monroe came back and handed a piece of paper to Hank. “Here's the license plate.”

“Thanks.” Hank took it and moved a few feet away to call it in.

“Do you feel okay?” Nick asked worriedly.

“Yeah, fine. I mean, should I not?”

“He doesn’t look like he’s dying…” Sloane said, eyeing him.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” he shot back.

“How did they die?” Rosalee said quickly.

“It's something similar to gastric dilatation volvulus. Basically, their insides burst,” Juliette said.

 “That sounds familiar. I have to get to the shop,” Rosalee said, moving past them. Monroe followed, looking confused and agitated.

They all ended up at the cars and heading for the shop, where Rosalee started looking through several books on what appeared to be mushrooms. When she found what she was looking for she set it on the table triumphantly. “I knew I knew it. It's called vollige verzweiflung in German... the black despair mushroom.”

“Sounds…fun?” Sloane said.

“Not really. It's found mostly in the black forest. It is similar to a rare strain of fungus called "ophiocordyceps unilateralis” from the tropics, which attacks carpenter ants, causing them to climb into trees where their insides burst, spreading the fungal spores.”

“Nature is disgustingly fascinating sometimes,” she muttered.

““When eaten raw, the mushrooms are harmless, but when cooked, they release a toxin fatal to Blutbaden."…” She looked at Monroe with clear worry. Monroe himself looked scared as he clutched his stomach.

“What's wrong?” Juliette asked.

“I'm trying to remember if I had any mushrooms at Raven & Rose. Did I?” he asked Rosalee.

“I don't know. Th-those could have been in anything,” she said, growing more worried.

“We checked what the victims had to eat. They ordered completely different things,” Nick said.

“And I don’t remember mushrooms being among the ingredients,” Sloane added.

“Is Sam's girlfriend a Blutbad?” Juliette asked.

“Nah-uh, she's a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen,” Monroe said. “You know, like you and Hank. She's not a wesen, but she knows the—”

“Wait, whoa!” Rosalee said, grasping his arm as she thought of something. “The tartlets.”

“What tartlets?” Hank asked.

“The beef and truffle tartlets. They weren't on the menu. They were compliments of the chef,” she said quickly. Nick looked pissed and Sloane couldn’t blame him, Ostler had conveniently not mentioned any “complimentary tartlets”.” Everyone got one,” she turned to Monroe, looking relieved, “except you didn't eat it.”

“Well, no, it had meat,” he said, looking relieved as well.

“So the truffles weren’t truffles, they were this killer mushrooms…” Sloane said. “That’s…devious.”

“And that’s how he does it,” Nick said, feeling like they’d just solved it all. “Serves it to everybody.”  Hanks phone rang and he picked it up.

“But only the Blutbaden are affected,” Sloane finished with a nod.

“Where?” Hank was asking into the phone. “Thank you.” Ending the call, he looked at the others. “They found Sam's car ran off the road in Washington Park. He was not with his car.”

“He's not gonna go far,” Nick said, motioning for them to head out.

“I'm going with you. He's my friend,” Monroe said, grabbing his jacket.

They piled back into their cars and drove quickly out to Washington Park, coming up to a couple of police cars near the abandoned vehicle. They quickly got out and rushed over.

“Any sign of the owner?” Nick asked the officer at the scene.

“Not since I've been here,” he answered.

“Well, that's definitely Sam's car, so he's got to be around here somewhere,” Monroe said. A distant roar cut through the night then, and Sloane’s hand reached up automatically to her knife now holstered at her side again. Nick put a hand on her shoulder to try and get her to pause.

“What the hell is that?” The officer exclaimed.

“Sam,” Monroe breathed, rushing towards the woods.

“Stay with the car. Call the paramedics,” Nick ordered, following him with Sloane and Hank. There was more roaring and they followed the sound with flashlights drawn, looking for the source. The closer they got the more distinctly they heard a pained groan within the roar. Sloane had to admit it sounded painful and pathetic.

“There,” Nick said suddenly, pointing his flashlight to a tree. Looking up, they could see a man sitting in the crook of a tree, straining and groaning with pain with his hands on his very extended abdomen. It reminded her of a woman in labor almost.

“Sam?” Monroe called. “Hold on, man! We're here, we're coming!” Sam grunted and groaned more, woging suddenly into his blutbad form. “Sam!?” He let out a piercing howl and the four of them backed away just as his stomach split open and his intestines spilled to the ground. Sloane gaped, looking back up to the lifeless body now hanging across the tree branch. No longer a blutbad, no longer a man, just a corpse.

“Oh, my God,” Monroe said quietly, looking sick. Hank called in what they found and in minutes the medical examiner was there, taking what was left of Sam away while crime techs looked over the scene. Monroe was standing off to the side, his hands in his pockets and a glassy look on his face. Nick walked over to him, clearly worried, and Sloane hanged back just enough she could hear them. “Monroe?”

“I'm gonna kill that bauerschwein,” he said darkly.

Nick swallowed and tried to stay rational. “We still don't have any evidence that he knew what he was doing.”

“He's a bauerschwein,” he scoffed. “What more evidence do you need?”

“Well, I need something I can take to court,” Nick said patiently.

“Not this time, Nick. Either you take care of this, or I will.”

“Let me handle this.”

“I've already lost two friends, man. I am not losing any more. So one way or another, that pig is going down.” Monroe stalked past him back towards the cars. Nick was watching him go, clearing anxious.

“He's not gonna go vigilante on us, is he?” Hank asked.

“He might…”

“I really hate saying this and you can never tell him, but I might agree with him,” Sloane said. “Not sure how we prove the pig had intention or that mushrooms were a murder weapon. At this point, I’d just as soon make some ham hocks.”

Nick glared at her and shook his head. “I don’t want to do that unless it is absolutely necessary…”

She frowned, knowing they had different definitions of necessary.

“I thought you didn’t like Blutbads,” Hank said, giving her an appraising look. “Why would you stop him?”

Sloane snorted. “I hate Blutbaden. I would kill any I come across if possible. But I don’t enjoy pain or torturing what I hunt.” Sloane glanced back towards the Medical Examiner’s truck. “That…was a long, torturous death. It’s disgusting that someone would do that, even to a random blutbad.  There are only five specific men I would wish that on.”

Nick blinked. “Five specific…?”

She looked at him, gauging how much to tell him. “Four of them are already dead…the fifth I’m still looking for. As it stands though, I don’t like causing pain for the sake of pain. It makes me no better than many of them. Short, clean deaths are my preferred method. Someone that does this? Sadistic and disgusting. Dishonorable too, not even knowing them or knowing their faces.”

Nick nodded slowly, finding he couldn’t disagree with that sentiment even if he didn’t want to consider any killing.

“So what do we do about the chef?” Hank asked.

Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “…I’m going to confront him.”

“Awesome, let’s go,” Sloane said.

“No, I want to do it on my own.”

Sloane and Hank both frowned. “No way,” Sloane said.

“I kind of agree with her. If you’re “confronting” him, I’m thinking it’s as a Grimm.”

“Yeah. Which is why I think I should go alone. The less he knows about you knowing,” he nodded to Hank, “or our back up Grimm. That way, he’s still blind to what we have up our sleeves.”

Hank frowned but sighed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“I suppose,” Sloane said, folding her arms. “But call me “back up Grimm” again and we will have words, Burkhardt.”

Nick smiled a little and they went their separate ways. Sloane decided on heading back to the motel to try and get some sleep. That ended up being a good choice because it was in the early morning when her phone beeped with a text. _Meet at the spice shop-Nick_.

Sighing, she got redressed and headed to the shop, just as Nick pulled up. He motioned for her to follow him through the open door, obviously agitated. Monroe and Rosalee were already there, apparently in a heated discussion. “You were right. Chef Ostler knows exactly what he's doing,” Nick said by way of greeting.

“You talked to him?” Rosalee asked in surprise.

“Yes. I thought I'd give him a chance to turn himself in,” Nick said near desperately.

“Oh, I'm sure that went over big. Did he take you up on that?” Monroe asked sarcastically, pacing around the room like a caged animal.

“Well, I got the confirmation that I needed,” Nick said patiently.

“What good does it do if we know he's guilty? You can't arrest him for serving something that's only poisonous to Blutbaden.”

“Yeah, I mean, he must’ve looked for that mushroom specifically since it’s rare,” Sloane said. “I’m fairly sure he must’ve had some idea what it’d do. Even so, I don’t think we can prove “murder by mushroom” in this case since so few people died...manslaughter maybe?”

“There's nothing you two can do, as cops, anyway!” Monroe burst out. “I'm sorry, but somebody has got to put the fear of God into these Schwein!” He grabbed his coat violently off the table and headed towards the exit past them.

“You do this, you risk everything,” Nick said.

“Listen to him,” Rosalee said, trying to stop him.

“No. Not after what they did to Ned and Sam and Hap. I am not gonna let them get away with it!” He woged and Sloan grabbed out her knife quickly. He glared at her. “You want some too?”

Sloane didn’t say anything, just adjusted the knife in her grip.

“No,” Nick said, putting a hand around her wrist. “Let him go…”

She didn’t take her eyes off Monroe, tensing and breathing hard as he pushed past them with a snarl. She closed her eyes when she heard the door open and close, breathing deeply. Nick slowly let go of her wrist and she tried to relax but he could still see the faint tremors he’d felt when he’d grabbed her. He’d almost think she was scared of Monroe if he thought she was scared of anything.

“Please, do something!” Rosalee said, looking desperate.

“If he wants to go down for murder, I don’t see how we’ll stop him,” Sloane said, putting her knife back in her holster under her arm. “It’s a blutbad thing, getting blood-starved…”

“Sloane, I know you don’t like them, but I love Monroe,” Rosalee said, her voice snapping like a whip. Sloane looked at her. “I do. He’s good, and he’s kind, he’s possibly the best thing to happen to me in a long time. But he’s also angry right now because his friends are dead. We all have a breaking point and I understand his anger, but I don’t want to lose him.”

Sloane looked at her for a long moment before sighing. “Fine…But you’ll owe me for this. Assuming we can get a plan together.”

“I might have something…” Nick said slowly. “Monroe still has his phone, right?”

\---------------------

Sloane was convinced this plan was stupid and not going to work. And it almost didn’t, because of the overacting blutbad named Monroe. But in the end, they got their pig.

Sloane however had been not comfortable with the plan. Getting together every Blutbad Monroe knew to scare Ostler into confessing by making him scared out of his wits of their retaliation. She’d begun breathing heavily while they advanced, Monroe “dead” on the ground after his “fight” with Nick. She suddenly felt very small, surrounded by red eyes and bloodlust. Nick had to call for her to follow when Ostler agreed to confess and they took him to the station.

“…you okay?” He asked from the driver’s seat.

“Just…get me out of here,” she said, closing her eyes and trying to fight off visions of blood and red eyes. She was breathing deeply, trying to keep the nausea rolling in her stomach from upending everything inside.

They got back to the station and Ostler signed his confession to using ingredients he knew could be lethal without proper preparation, knowingly endangering his customers and causing three known deaths while never providing a warning. Sloane sighed, wondering how Nick managed to do this without killing him as he came back to the observation room where they were waiting; Monroe, Hank, her and Renard.

“You know, you connected on a couple of those,” Monroe said, gesturing with an ice pack at his bruised jaw.

“Yeah, you too,” Nick retorted, pointed at a graze on his brow. They both ended up laughing and Sloane shook her head a little. How did this seem both easy and hard? Killing the Bauershwein would’ve been her call, and simpler. Yet Nick found a way to do it without more bloodshed. She wasn’t sure what she felt, if it was annoyance or sick sort of admiration. She didn’t want it to be the latter.

“He signed it,” Nick said, handing the confession over to Renard.

“And this little piggy went to jail,” Renard said glibly. Nick chuckled while Sloane rolled her eyes again. They all prepared to leave.

As they were heading out, Nick gently put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, uh…can I talk to you?”

Sloane paused but nodded and followed him out to the side of the station. Nick hesitated there however, apparently having trouble collecting his thoughts. “What is it, Nick?”

“Yeah, just…I have an awkward question.”

“Okay…?” she said slowly.

Nick took a deep breath. “Have you…ever killed someone who wasn’t wesen?”

Sloane’s eyebrows shot up. “Pardon?”

“I mean, like…a normal human. Have you ever…?” he trailed off, feeling suddenly stupid. “Gant doesn’t count because he killed himself really.”

“…Is this about that bar incident?” she asked. Nick didn’t look at her and she sighed. _I knew it._ She hesitated before folding her arms and resting against the wall. “Yes. A couple of times, maybe more.

Nick looked up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. Most of the time, it was in self-defense and if they don’t woge, I’m not always sure. I didn’t like it, but when I guy tries to stab you with a broken bottle because you killed his gang-mate who was a Hässlich, you fight back.”

He nodded a bit, knowing he couldn’t fault her that, but the phrasing got his attention. “…You said most of the time?” Nick said.

Sloane gave him a hard look. “…There was an accident once that I…killed an innocent normal human. Someone that got caught in the middle. That…was harder to come to terms with, that someone innocent was killed because of something I did.”

Nick hesitated but pressed a little more. “Did you come to terms with it?”

“Not completely, no,” she admitted. “There are times I still regret it, though my mentor told me to get over it. That things like that happen when you’re hunting wesen.”

“…Is that supposed to be easier?” he asked quietly. “Killing wesen instead of humans?”

Sloane arched her brows. “Generally, yes. We’re hardwired to hunt them, like a natural predator to them.”

 Nick was quiet a moment and Sloane wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. “Renard made a good point when I saw him the other day, wanting to talk about what happened,” he finally said. “He said I felt worse killing a human in a drugged state than I did killing wesen when I was in the right state of mind. I’ve killed several wesen in the past when I deemed it necessary and didn’t beat myself up about it. Heck, I sent two reapers heads in a box back to their boss.”

“Still want to hear about that one,” Sloane added.

Nick ignored that. “But...killing this guy had an effect on me. And yeah, I wasn’t in my right mind, but it was still me that did it. And he wasn’t a good guy. Lots of past offenses, and he pulled a knife on me...But it still felt wrong. I guess...I wonder if it’s hypocritical, to feel guilt over a human but not a wesen...”

Sloane was quiet now, thinking that over. Taking a breath after a few beats, she slowly spoke. “It’s hard sometiems to see wesen as real or human for us,” she said. “That’s part of what makes us hunt. We see the side of them they try to hide. The primal, animal side. And for us, that makes it easier. I know that’s not the answer you want, but it’s the first thing to come to mind. But...I could also say maybe part of what your feeling is just...the loss of control.” Nick looked up at that. “We like being in control. You’re a cop and a Grimm, you want to be the one in control of yourself. Seeing yourself do that, but not remembering, not being in your right mind, is scary for anyone, but especially us. It’s like...seeing yourself as the monster all of a sudden. How wesen must see you. Or more like a wesen. So that might be part of it.”

Nick hummed a little, not cheered by the thought. “Maybe...”

“In which case, I mean, you’ll have to just learn to accept it,” she went on. “That guy may have been acting in self defense when you started trashing the bar, but he was also prepared to kill. Even if he was human, you have a right to defend yourself and keep living.”

“So did he,” Nick said quietly.

“Yes. But he lost. You won. You’re still here, so you keep going and doing what you have to to protect others. You gotta make tough calls sometimes to hunt another day.That’s what we do as Grimms.”

“And as police officers too,” he agreed, straightening a little. “I had to prepare myself for the posibiltiy of killing someone in the past.  And I’ve done it, on hard stand offs and the likie. It was definitely rough the first time, but I saw a councilor and eventually I just came to terms with it and that it’s a thing I might have to do on this job. I always try not to of course, I take trying to deescelate things seriously, and I carried that over to being a Grimm. I really don’t want to have to kill if I don’t have to...”

She looked at him, feeling that the moment of professional pride that started lifting him up was already fading. “But…you figured out how to arrest this guy instead of kill him,” she said. “I may have preferred to kill him, but you figured out a way to do it without more death. It was harder, and riskier, but you were willing to do it to make sure no one else died. That’s…commendable on a level.” She hesitated before putting a hand on his shoulder. “You…see wesen as people. Some good, some bad, some…in between I guess. When you had to kill them, you had to because they gave you no choice. But you give them one all the time. You lived. The fact you’re here means you can keep doing that, right? Keep…proving me wrong as infuriating as it is.”

Nick stared at her a moment before smiling. “Well…I do enjoy proving you wrong, yes.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” she said snidely, flicking his ear and smirking when he cupped it with an affronted glare. “But yeah. Killing shouldn’t be easy, and one shouldn’t enjoy it. That’s why I particularly disliked this baurshwein and many other wesen I hunt. I…enjoy the hunt, using my skills and my mind to track and fight, but not the ending. It’s just what I’ve always thought of as the inevitable conclusion, so I did it as quick as I could. You, you found another ending. Maybe you’re more of a bleeding heart than I am, but that’s not necessarily bad as long as I can count on you. I think worrying about this sort of thing means…you are a good person. For whatever that’s worth.”

Nick was quiet a few seconds before nodding slowly with a small smile. “It’s…That’s worth more than you might think.”

She smiled slightly. “Go home and relax. We’ll probably have some other messed up case to deal with soon enough.”

“Yeah…thanks for going along with the plan by the way. I know you were really uncomfortable during the whole confrontation.”

“You’re welcome…But never surround me with Blutbader again or I will take them all down,” she said, heading back out and towards their cars. Nick shook his head but did the same, ready for a well-deserved rest.

\--------------------

_One Night Stand_

Sloane sighed as she flipped through apartment listings on her phone. She was still having trouble finding something that would suit her. It was a few days after the Raven & Rose incident—the restaurant now shut down since its chef was awaiting trial for knowingly serving dangerous mushrooms—and Renard was a little more insistent she find an apartment.

“What’s wrong?” Rosalee asked. Sloane was getting a few ingredients to make the salve she used on her wounds, her stock running low. It was also, though Sloane still hated to admit it, nice to be in the fuchsbau’s company. They’d been chatting on and off all afternoon and Sloane was surprised they were interested in a lot of similar things. Similar music—a little bit of everything, but especially classic rock and classical. Similar movies—older movies mainly, and part of that was because Sloane hadn’t really seen any new ones in years. Even things they disliked were similar enough they could talk about them for long periods of time. But Sloane had gotten into the habit of looking at apartment listings at least once every couple of hours, distracting her today.

“Oh, just…apartment hunting,” she said.

“Really?” Rosalee asked in surprise, pausing in cutting and measuring out some beeswax.

“Yeah. Can’t seem to find a place that’ll work…”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed and set her phone down. “I don’t want to be too far from the station. But I also need room. Like either an attic or basement, or even just a second bedroom.”

“Most people would prefer the second bedroom…” Rosalee said with a small smile.

“This is for my Grimm things,” she said. “I don’t think I can have them actually in my room…I’ll have trouble sleeping rather than focusing on whatever we’re doing at the time.”

“Ah, I understand. You want a bedroom to be your sanctuary.”

Sloane wrinkled her nose a little at the phrasing but shrugged. “I guess so. Mostly I just want to be able to sleep. Point is, a studio apartment isn’t going to cut it, and neither is a one bedroom. I mean, I don’t expect to be throwing parties or anything, but if someone has to come in I don’t want them seeing my crossbow and swords and wesen books everywhere...Or me having to sleep in the living room if I don’t have anywhere else to put my stuff.”

“Understandable…any other conditions.”

“Uh…not really. Functional kitchen and bathroom, not too picky on size, no funky smells or dead bodies. I’d prefer furnished because, well, I have no furniture. Laundry…I guess having one in would be good in case of, you know…blood and other stuff. I usually had to find a 24 hour place in the dead of night or throw out and or burn a lot clothes when they were stained. It gets annoying so having my own laundry would be rather nice…”

Rosalee smiled a little. “Well…I might have a listing for you then.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Mine.”

Sloane blinked and shook her head. “You lost me.”

“I’m moving out of my house—well, it’s my brother’s old house—and in with Monroe.”

“You are?” she asked, frowning more.

“Don’t start,” Rosalee warned, pointing her wax knife at her.

“I didn’t say anything,” she said, holding her hands up.

“You had a look on your face,” she said, gesturing at her face with knife. It showed how much she really had come to trust her not to find it threatening. “I told you, I love Monroe. So, we’re going to try living together.”

“Okay…Your point?” she asked.

“My point is, I haven’t actually put the house on the market yet. And I don’t really want to move until then…but I also really want to move.”

Sloane hummed a little. “I was thinking an apartment, but a house…that’d be cool. What’s it like?”

“I’m not going to lie, it was sort of my brother’s bachelor pad, so it’s not like a family home. But it’s three bedrooms—one is more like an office—two baths, and I would say it’s about 1200 square feet. Probably about halfway between here and the station.”

“What’s the price?” she asked delicately.

“Mmm…It’s not in the up-and-coming part of town, so I had it appraised for about 200,000,” Rosalee said. “It’s a nice enough neighborhood though, no issues and the neighbors keep to themselves. I’m not saying you have to. We can go look at it before you decide anything and we can talk about what would work best for both of us.”

Sloane pursed her lips a little before sighing and nodding. “Okay.”

“You don’t sound enthused…” Rosalee said, putting the beeswax up and getting down a jar of lemon balm.

“No, I…appreciate this, really,” Sloane said. “It’s just…I haven’t really lived anywhere for a long time…” she admitted. “It’s just been motels and my car for years.”

Rosalee frowned sympathetically. “Oooh…so it’s a little intimidating, getting your own place?”

“I guess…Renard said something like I’m scared to admit I’m staying here for a while…”

Rosalee sighed and nodded. “I…honestly felt the same way before I moved back here.”

She frowned in confuseion. “Why?”

“I…lived in Seattle for a while before coming back. But for a long time it wasn’t really living. For a couple of years I was on the streets and in shelters or…living with very bad people.”

Sloane blinked in surprise. “…You’re kidding? You’re probably the most level headed out of everyone I’ve met here so far.”

Rosalee smiled a little. “It all comes from hard living, I promise. I…was addicted to Jay, a wesen drug, for seven years. Caused a lot of strife for me, a rift between me and my family…a hard time starting over…” She shook her head. “My mother and sister were pretty upset with me for a lot of reasons, but my brother Freddie was the one that helped me start over. That’s why when he died, I came back to help. At first I wanted to go back to Seattle. I had a rather boring job in an office there, but it was stable. And staying hear meant I’d likely take over our family’s old shop, which is not stable.” She gestured around. “At the same time, being home, being here felt…right. But it wasn’t an easy choice. A lot of memories are here. Mostly good, but…kind of sad too because now my father and my brother are gone and the rest of my family is still kind of quiet…being hundreds of miles away was a good excuse not to try too hard to mend those ties.”

Sloane looked down a little bit. “…I…don’t really know what to say,” she said honestly. “Family isn’t really an area I have any experience in.”

“It’s fine. I just thought I’d let you know, since Monroe and Nick know. And that I get the whole “should I stay or should I go” thing.”

Sloane smiled just a little. “Thanks…Do you like it here?”

Rosalee smiled. “Love it. Not just because Monroe is here, but…I feel like I have a future. It’s tough being a one woman show here at the shop. But helping Nick and other wesen who come in…makes it worthwhile and kind of fun sometimes. Not the whole life and death part but…”

“Solving the problem?” Sloane guessed.

“Yeah.”

Sloane nodded. “I told Nick this, but I like the hunt. I like the looking for clues and leads and piecing information together. The end…was just always inevitable to me, but not the part I enjoy…”

Rosalee didn’t ask what she meant by the end, she had a good idea what that was. “Maybe that’s why you make a pretty good detective.”

“Eh, not sure about that. Seems like Nick and Hank do most of that.”

“They’re seasoned detectives; you’re still learning the ropes. And helping out, I’m sure.”

Sloane smiled a little more. It was harder and harder to deny she like hanging around Rosalee. She’d never had a lot of friends, even when she was young. Having someone to talk to about this was…strange, but also made her feel lighter somehow.

Roslee put the knife down, heating the wax over a small bunson burner to melt it down in the jar. “So, want to meet up later and I’ll show you the house?”

Sloane took a breath but nodded. “Sure, sounds good.”

Rosalee smiled excitedly, putting the lemon balm with the other ingredients she’d prepared for Sloane. “I think that’s everything then…Do you want to use the back room to make it?”

Sloane smirked a little. “You want to know the recipe for my salve, don’t you?”

Rosalee blushed but laughed at being found out. “Yeah, I do. It’s pretty amazing, those cuts you had after the whole thing with the crazy artist healed in like less than two days.”

“Yes, it is pretty great, though it really only works on flesh wounds and keeps me from having too many scars.” Sloane looked at the ingredients laid out on the counter. It would be a hassle to have to carry them back to her hotel room and try to make it there… “Alright. You knowing it could prove pretty handy in the future after all.”

“Really? It’s not a secret family recipe?” she asked in surprise.

“Oh, it is. Which is why you’ll have to swear you won’t let anyone else know,” Sloane said seriously.

“I promise,” Rosalee said, holding out her pinky. Sloane looked at it in confusion, then back up to her. “Pinky promise?”

“…What?”

Rosalee’s smiled faltered for a second before she wiggled her pinky. “Hold your pinky up.” Sloane did so slowly, still confused. Rosalee hooked their pinkies together and shook them a little. “Pinky promises. They’re a kind of traditional thing, a promise that you can’t break or bad luck comes your way. At least that’s what I’ve always been told.”

“Huh…” she said, looking at their fingers. “Okay…Help me carry this stuff to the back.”

\----------------------

In the end, Sloane liked Rosalee’s house. It was indeed convenient to the station, less than twenty minutes even with traffic, had solid features and was a cute white and blue craftsman with a grey roof. And it had the coveted second bedroom _and_ another smaller room. Freddie had apparently used the smaller room as an office since it was really too small for a proper bedroom and at the back of the house, but it was big enough Sloane could properly store most of her things there, and make a weapons closet. The other she supposed she could make a guest room, or use for more storage. There was one bathroom with a Jack and Jill arrangement to the two extra bedrooms and though not modern it was just fine by Sloane’s standards. The master bedroom and bathroom were plenty big and updated in the last few years to make up for that.

“It’s a bit more than I think Renard had in mind when he told me to find a place,” Sloane said. “Price and size wise…”

“Are you trying to talk yourself out of it?” Sloane smiled at Rosalee’s knowing-tone.

Sloane huffed a laugh. “No…I like it. A lot actually. But the thing is, I don’t think he’d go into that big of a down payment…Which means I’d have to use my own money.”

“If you don’t have that much, we can work something else out. Like a loan, or I could lease it to you.”

Sloane shook her head. “No. I know I can trust you, and…If I’m gonna have a place of my own, I think I’d like it to be _mine._ Besides, loans would get tricky for me, the whole credit history thing.. _._ ” Scratching the side of her face she sighed finally. “It’ll take me a bit to move money around, but I can get the $200,000 you were quoted if that’s what you’re willing to accept”

Rosalee blinked in confusion. “Wait…you can? But you didn’t have a job before…”

“Well, I had less than legal means of making money before,” she said evasively. Rosalee frowned and was going to say something but Sloane continued on. “But for this, I have a pretty sizeable trust from my grandmother that I can tap into now that I’m not moving around so much. I can get you cash and cover closing costs in probably…two weeks?”

“A trust from your grandmother? Are you sure?” she asked worriedly.

“I promise you, that’s not going to put too much of a dent in it…If you’d prefer I can move money around in my other accounts, but I wouldn’t ask too much about where that came from,” she said carefully.

Rosalee was hesitant, but then she knew that Sloane had a past probably more checkered than hers. She was moving on and trying to do better, and Rosalee would honestly not sneeze at a full price payout. “Alright. But I think we can sweeten the deal for both of us.”

“How so?”

“You said you didn’t have any furniture right? I’m not going to need all of this moving in with Monroe, so I think we can work out something…”

Sloane ended up buying quite a bit of the furniture from Rosalee, both to her advantage and it kept Rosalee from having to move it or put it on craigslist or trade out with Monroe. She bought the bed frame—a new mattress would be delivered soon— and nightstand, the bureau, the old antique desk in the second bedroom, the couch, and some of her kitchen goods like pots and pans and such. In the living room the couch would stay, as would the coffee table. She hesitated about the TV, DVD player and stand, considering she hadn’t watched hardly any TV over the years, but Rosalee convinced her to just in case it would come in handy. In return for the great prices on what she bought, Sloan ended up helping her box what she did plan to take over to Monroe’s before Sloane could move her own things in.

“I wonder if Monroe is going to have room for all this…even with what you got from me, this is a lot of stuff,” Rosalee said as she finished taping one of the last boxes shut. A bag of finished breakfast tacos was sitting by the trash bag she was also filling up, Sloane having arrived as planned that morning to help finish packing up. They’d been doing a lot of that over the last few days but the end was in sight. On the counter was Rosalee’s MP3 stereo, her phone hooked up and playing some music to help pass the time. She’d noticed Sloane liked music the first day she did this. She’d tap things out, sway a little bit, even tap her feet. Rosalee had stared the first time she noticed it until Sloane noticed and then immediately stopped, embarrassed. Neither of them said anything about it, but Rosalee had found it cute that Sloane had a weakness for rhythm so she kept the music on as background noise.

“That’s kind of between you two…” Sloane said, putting another box outside the door. “I’ve haven’t lived with anyone since I was eighteen and still with my mentor, and even then we were pretty minimalist since we moved around a lot. Oh, I guess I lived with some other Grimms on and off too, but that was the same.”

“That sounds rough…”

She shrugged. “Could’ve been worse.”                               

Rosalee hummed and picked up the box she had. “I think this is the last of it.”

“I’ll help you with them to the car then.”

“Actually…why don’t you sweep up?”

“Sweep up?”

“Yeah. We did kind of make a mess clearing stuff up…” she said, looking around. There was dust, packing supplies, bits of paper and the backs of stickers and just general debris lying around. “I’ll help when I’m done. I’d feel better leaving here with it looking a little nicer, even if it is your place starting tomorrow. It’ll give you a chance to kind of start thinking of as your place too.”

“My place?”

“Yeah. You can do whatever you want here pretty much! Even redecorate, move stuff around, paint etc.”

Sloane seemed surprised by the idea despite days of preparation. “Huh…alright. You sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure, you basically loaded the last two trips on your own, and I can get this one. Here, I’ll turn up the music for you to make it more fun.” She stepped back over to her stereo and upped the volume on the old school pop song playing. Sloane rolled her eyes but Rosalee just smiled and readjusted the box. “I’ll be back in a bit!”

Sloane nodded and went to the hall closet to grab the broom while Rosalee headed out the door, closing it behind her. Sloane sighed a bit, looking around. “My place…” She muttered. It was a bit surreal. She had a house, a real house. A place she could do whatever she wanted. It was a freeing and yet intimidating concept. She felt that urge to run again but took a breath and tamped it down. Grabbing the broom, she started sweeping up the bits of packing tape that had gotten tangled, balled up newspapers, and just general mess. The song on the stereo changed and Sloane felt her lips twitch when she recognized it. Billy Idol’s _Dancing with Myself_ was just starting and she felt her body already moving a bit to the beat. She tightened her grip on the broom to try and focus, pushing it across the floor. _My place…I can do what I want…_ She smiled a bit, starting to move more rhythmically. With practiced ease her feet started moving through steps.

It’d been a long time since she’d really let herself think about dancing. To not think too hard and let her feet move, focusing just on the music and rhythm and getting lost. She even started bouncing one of the tape balls on the broom before striking it like a ball into the bin. She only noticed the music changed to something old and Sinatra-like when she figured out she needed to step differently. There was hopping and heel turning, a little shuffling and twirling. She smiled a bit, feeling more at ease. She could do this; she could dance, without being told not to. She had no shared walls with neighbors, no one was below her to mind the footfalls. No one was living with her to judge. The walls were a good thickness so no one would mind a little music. It was finally a chance to do something for herself—

Sloane turned to see Rosalee in the doorway, staring in shock. Sloane froze, the broom slipping from her hand to fall to the floor. They stared at one another before Sloane slowly walked over and turned the stereo off. “…You didn’t see that.”

“Oh, I saw,” Rosalee said, a smile spreading on her face.

“Then that means I have to kill you,” she warned. She wasn’t serious, but she tried to look it.

Rosalee wasn’t fooled, smiling more. “That might’ve been intimidating before the whole Ginger Rogers routine…”

Sloane glared but blushed as well. “I’m not as good as Ginger Rogers…”

“That was really good!” Rosalee said, coming over. “I had no idea you could dance like that, it was great.”

“No, no it wasn’t, it was just-I was just…”

Rosalee frowned, realizing Sloane was close to panicking. “Sloane…it’s okay, really.” Sloane didn’t meet her gaze and Rosalee grew worried. “There’s no reason you can’t dance…”

“…I’m…It’s not something a Grimm should…” she said quietly.

“Who says? Grimms also shouldn’t be friends with Fuchsbau right? But you’re my friend. Maybe one of my best the way things are going.”

Sloane was shocked by that, feeling herself heat up more with embarrassment. “…I…I still don’t want people to know…or see…it’s just a dumb thing I do…I can’t stop it when music plays…”

“It’s not dumb if you like it, but that’s fine. You are good, you know.”

“I’m out of practice,” she muttered, still embarrassed but relaxing just slightly.

“Still, not bad.”

Sloane finally looked at her again. “Promise not to tell anyone though?”

“If you insist...” Rosalee smiled and went over to the stereo, pushing some buttons on her phone. “But I still say you can dance if you want to…you can leave your friends behind…” Sloane frowned, thinking that sounded familiar, but also an odd choice of words given what she just said. “Because your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance, well they’re no friends of mine.” She pushed play on a song that Sloane recognized after a second and then she stared at Rosalee in disbelief.

“Really? You are seriously-and you’re dancing. You’re doing that dance.”

Rosalee started dancing to _Safety Dance_ , purposefully being dorky and goading her to join as she mouthed along with the words. Sloane couldn’t help it, she started laughing. A full on laugh like she hadn’t had in years, shaking her body. Her stomach was already hurting from not laughing in ages, but she couldn’t stop herself or put that stoic mask back on. Rosalee smiled wider, feeling proud. She grabbed her hands to lead her into a dance together in the house that was soon going to be all her own when the paperwork was finalized. Sloane felt suddenly lighter than she had in years and danced along.

\----------------------

Sloane got to the station earlier than her shift asked for and dropped by Renard’s office.

“Sloane. Something I can do?” he asked, finishing paperwork.

“No…Just here to give you this.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “My, uh…new address.”

Renard smiled a little and took it, looking it over. “Finally got that apartment then? I was worried I’d have to remind you again.”

“Yeah. Rosalee helped, it’s…her old place,” she said, feeling a little awkward.

“…It’s a house,” he said, noting the address didn’t have an apartment number.

“Yes it is,” Sloane said. “You don’t have to worry, I paid for it out of my old savings. My…grandmother left me quite a bit I haven’t touched, and I had more saved up.”

“I see, that works out well then,” he said, smiling. “I’ll have your files updated. Do you need an advance on anything?”

“No, I’ve got it covered. I should be moving in soon, it’s just a matter of getting the time.”

“Well, it’s all worked out well then. Was there anything else?”

“Not really.”

“Then you should go join Nick and Hank. While I wish I could give you time to finish moving, I believe you two have a case,” he nodded towards where Nick and Hank were obviously waiting on her.

“Got it.” She turned to leave.

“Oh, and Sloane?”

She glanced back. “Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re adapting well here. You’re an asset to the department for certain, but…you seem to be meshing well over all now. I was worried you wouldn’t.”

Sloane frowned a little but then shrugged. “I’m…learning things. It’s interesting. I sort of naively and kind of stupidly thought I was done learning anything about being a Grimm, and didn’t really appreciate being so…thrown at first. But it’s not so bad I guess. At the very least, I’m not as bored as I thought I’d be staying in one place.”

Renard smiled a little. “That’s good to hear. Please then, go keep learning.”

She rolled her eyes a little and went out to join Nick and Hank. “Hey, what’d Renard need?” Nick said.

“I was just letting him know that I have my own place now.”

“Rosalee all moved out?”

“As of yesterday. I still need to move in and I’m sleeping at the hotel till I get my new bed. And the payment still needs to go through but I don’t see much problem there since it’s cash.”

“That’s good,” Hank said. “But we actually got a case now.”

“Lead the way,” she said.

They headed out and to the bank of the Columbia River, where apparently they’d found a drowned man in his early twenties. He fit the description of a missing person, but aside from also drowning he had several very bad scratches around his ankles, like from an animal. Sloane shuddered, imagining being pulled under the water by something.

“Who filed the report?” Nick asked.

Hank looked at his notes. “Jake Barnes, filed last night at 9:15.”

“Let’s talk to him.”

They started back for the car and Sloane glanced back, looking out over the water suspiciously. In the car, Nick looked back at her. “Think its wesen?”

“Possible. There are several types of wesen that like or even need to be submerged in water. I can rule out a couple given that he wasn’t nibbled on…”

“More man-eaters? Really?” Hank asked.

“Yes. The Pua Niho comes to mind, but they prefer salt water being that they’re shark like. Fresh water…A Matope Khungu I suppose could do it, though they live usually in more humid, tropical conditions. They like to let their food rest in water for several days till it’s slightly decayed. They usually just hunt big game, but have been known to hunt humans…”

“What are they like?” Hank asked, looking a bit disgusted.

“Aligator types. Leathery skin, lots of teeth, good in the water. Not to be confused Gelumcaedus, which are also rather reptilian and tough as nails.”

“Sounds fun,” Nick said.

“Not really. They can stand toe to toe with Grimms, I saw one rip a man’s arm off once…”

“Okay, really hope it’s not that,” Hank said.

“Same,” Nick agreed.

“Like I said, I don’t think it is. The victim was scratched up, but not eaten, just…drowned.”

Nick looked back at her again. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said, trying to get rid of the shudder that went through her back.

They tracked down Jake Barnes to his apartment and questioned him about what happened. Apparently he and Dan had met with a couple of girls by the river and one thing had led to another. Sloane didn’t care for the idea of sex in water but kept that to herself. Something had tried to drag them down after that, but something else—a girl he thought— saved Jake while Dan wasn’t so lucky. They ended up returning to the river with Jake for a more thorough look at the scene. While he was talking, Sloane scanned the river, trying look for any traces of something still there. It was hard with how deep and green the water was and she shuddered again at the thought of being dragged down under it.

“Hank, Sloane!” Nick called, grabbing her attention. He was already off and running after something and Sloane followed quickly, able to catch up to him faster than Hank or Jake, and saw a dark haired girl running through the brush ahead of them. Before they could catch up she was in the water and under, swimming at an alarming speed out quite a distance before surfacing and looking at them. Her eyes seemed to glow even in the day light and she gave a quiet squeaking noise before diving back under. Nick stared at the water in shock and then looked at Sloane. Sloane was trying to track her movements through the water, but she was soon far enough away even enhanced Grimm sight couldn’t do much. Hank jogged up then.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She dove in,” Nick said, still looking at the water.

“You see her come up?”

“Yeah, about 50 yards out.”

“She swam all that way underwater?” he asked in surprise. “What are we dealing with?”

“A Naiad,” Sloane said.

Nick looked at her. “You know them well?”

“Pretty well. They-” She paused when Jake caught up and gave them a look that said “later”.

“I think that was the girl I saw before,” Jake said, panting. “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know,” Nick said honestly.

They dropped Jake back off in town and returned to the station, Hank calling in about any other bodies possibly being found on the way.

“I doubt those girls are missing,” Sloane said. “They were probably Naiads as well.”

“What are those?” Nick asked.

“You might know them better as mermaids.”

Hank and Nick both looked back at her as though she’d grown a second head. “Mermaids?” they said together.

Sloane thought they really shouldn’t be so shocked at this point. “Yeah. Sea nymphs. Though not a siren, those are a little different. Not sure how they got lumped together like they have…Also, no fish tail. Those were manatees, and I really don’t know how they got mixed into this other than sailors being weirdly horny.”

“Okay, but…so they drown people? Like in the folklore?” Hank asked.

“Sort of. It’s actually the males who do the drowning.” She looked at Nick. “To be honest, I’m fairly certain Marie had a book with an entry on them. It might be good to see if it has any information we can use.”

Nick nodded. “Okay. We can check out the trailer later, but we should probably inform Renard at the station.”

They headed back, Hank getting information from the river patrol just as Renard was coming in a few minutes later. They quickly caught him up on the case on their way to his office.

“River patrol didn't find any bodies matching Jake's description of Sarah, Anna, or the girl Nick saw jump into the river,” Hank said as they walked.

“They're probably still alive. Somebody went back to the campsite and took the sisters' clothes,” Renard said, nodding.

“Jake said they were scared. They probably got out of the river, grabbed their stuff, and ran.”

“The girl I saw go into the river was a lot more than a girl when she got under the water,” Nick said meaningfully at the office door.

Renard took a breath, opening the office door to let them in. “You know what she was?”

“Naiad seems the most likely,” Sloane said simply.

“Really?” he asked, closing the door behind them.

“She had gills and glowing eyes and swam like a fish.”

“I see…that could be a problem, but it makes sense. You think then these girls and the boys were…”

“Jake admitted to having sex with one of them,” Sloane said.

 “Alright. But I’m not sure why they would drown them after?” Renard asked.

“Maybe they woged and the boys saw?” Nick asked.

“Jake isn’t letting on he saw anything out of the ordinary,” Hank said.

“This seems to be a common thread with Naiads,” Sloane said. “I’m not sure why, by they like to get men from the shore rather than their own kind, and then they end up drowned after…” she gestured vaguely. “Doing the deed.”

Renard hummed and then paused when he got a text message, pulling out his phone. “Ah…I have to deal with this. You think you have this covered?”

“I think so,” Sloane said, looking at Hank and Nick. They nodded and headed out of the office. After finishing up work at the station, they first headed over to Monroe’s—now Monroe & Rosalee’s really—to help with unpacking. Inevitably they started talking about the case.

“In the river? You know, I'm not really that much of a water person. I'm really more of a Mountain and land kind of lubber,” Monroe said. Sloane really disliked that she agreed with him.

“There was this girl I knew in Seattle, she was a Naiad, lived out on Bainbridge Island. She's was kind of weird. Nice though. But she could swim like a fish,” Rosalee said.

“Called it,” Sloane said with a smile.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Sloane said she was pretty sure the girl we saw was a Naiad.”

“And I was right.”

“Oh, naiads. Yeah, no, I've heard of naiads. I've never seen one, though. What are they, like, a water nymph or something?” Monroe said, looking to Rosalee.

“Sort of. Very close-knit families. They never stray far from the water.”

“That's probably why Jake can't describe who saved him,” Hank said.

“So then, I think the trailer is the next stop,” Sloane said. Monroe perked up a little, looking at Nick and Hank.

“Yeah. Right, we should be going,” Nick said, taking some que from him as he stood. “Looks like you guys have a lot left to do.”

“Yeah, we do. We sure do,” Monroe said, looking around at the many boxes still needing to be sorted. “Hey, you know, but if you guys need any help, you know, in the trailer... I mean, I probably shouldn't leave with so much left to do…” He looked at Rosalee, who was smiling in amusement.

“Go ahead.”

“What?” Sloane said.

“Are you sure? I mean, it's not gonna take that long,” Monroe said, looking excited.

“Please, take him,” she said, pushing Monroe towards them slightly.

“Nooooo…” Sloane said under her breath.

“Thanks,” Monroe kissed her cheek and Sloane glowered as he moved past towards Nick and Hank. She looked at Rosalee in annoyance and the fuchsbau just smiled. “It’s fine, really.”

She grunted and turned to head out, following them to the trailer. They started pulling books off the shelves, looking though them.

It was Monroe that found something first. It was a document from a Grimm traveling aboard a trading vessel, dated 1755. It detailed that a man went missing after stating that he’d seen a beautiful woman swimming like a fish alongside their boat.  The Grimm captured her and dragged her aboard the boat secretly, questioning her about what happened to the crewman. It appeared the longer she was out of the water, the drier and more shriveled she became. When he turned the page to the last part of the entry, Sloane frowned at the vacant stare of the sketch he’d made of a dried up Naiad. ““At sunrise this morning, the creature died from what I assume was severe dehydration,”” Monroe read. ““I'm afraid whatever secrets the naiad was keeping have died with her."”

A phone suddenly rang and Hank picked his up, looking at the Id. “It's Wu.” He answered it on speaker. “Got something for us?”

“We ran the number from Jake Barnes' missing cell phone. GPS puts it at the Andersen marina,” Wu said.

“That's not far up the river from where they went swimming,” Nick said.

“How you want to handle this?”

“Meet us at the marina,” Hank said, Sloane and Nick already getting ready to go.

“We should bring Jake along in case he can I.D. whoever took the phone,” Nick said.

Monroe got back into his own car to head home while they picked up Jake and headed to the Marina. They left Jake near the car with a pair of binoculars so he could scope out the locals without being seen. Wu tracked the phone’s signal to a houseboat and the owner, Abel Mahario, was adamant he had nothing to do with any drownings. However, when Wu called Jake’s number, the easily heard the ring tone inside the house. They found the phone tucked away behind a couch cushion, and then found a picture of three girls. The youngest looked like the girl Nick and Sloane had seen dive into the water, so they brought the picture out to confront Mahario. Mahario claimed he had no idea how the phone got there. When they asked to speak to his youngest daughter, Elly, he revealed she was deaf. None of them knew sign language so that was a bust for the moment.

Things got more complicated when two of the girls, the infamous Anna and Sarah, arrived back and Jake came down to confront them. The girls said they had no idea what he was talking about, but the evidence added up too much to be a coincidence. Two men tried to confront them as well, but in the end Anna and Sarah would be coming back to the precinct with them.

“Listen, you can't do this,” Mahario said as Hank and the officers escorted the girls to a squad car.

“Sir, we can make the same arrangements for you, unless you want to clear this up right now,” Nick said.

“You don't understand!” He woged then, his eyes glowing yellow, his teeth sharpening, and gills undulating around his neck. His eyes widened when he looked at Sloane and Nick.

“Well, I guess we have more to talk about than I thought,” Nick said with a satisfied smirk.

“I don’t know, kind of saw it coming myself,” Sloane said.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Big surprise. But we’re going to talk to your daughters first, give you some time to think about it.” They walked around either side of him and back towards the cars. Sloane had a nagging feeling there was more here though.

\---------------------

At the station, they put the girls in two separate interrogation rooms. Sloane could already see dry patches appearing on their arms, and she knew Hank and Nick could see them too. To her it meant they had a set amount of time to do this before they died. To them it meant the same thing, though she figured they were more concerned about the whole “dying” thing than she was.

“Jake says this is the girl that pulled him out. You want to tell us what happened?” Nick said, holding the photo out to Sarah, the blonde. He tapped over the youngest girl in the photo, a pretty girl with olive skin and dark hair. She looked away, keeping her mouth shut. Nick sat down in the chair and motioned for Sloane to do the same. “We're the only three here who know what you and your sister are.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said.

“You're naiads,” Sloane said. She tensed in surprise but looked away again, keeping her lips together.

“You really want to spend the next 24 hours drying out in a holding cell?” Nick asked more desperately.

“'Cause that's where you're going if you don't start talking,” Hank added.

“I have nothing to say.”

Hank sighed and they all stood. “Well, let's hope your sister does.”

They went to the other room where Anna, the red-headed sister, sat. She was just as tight lipped as Sarah. “Jake saw Dan pulled under,” Nick said. “Jake is only alive because Elly saved him. That means you either saw what happened or were involved with what happened. You need to tell us, Anna. Because I know naiads can only be out of the water for so long.” Anna looked at him in shock, looking at Sloane and Hank as well when they didn’t call Nick crazy. “And you will die in here if you don't start talking. Who pulled Jake under the water? Who killed Dan?” Anna shook her head slowly, tearing up, but still kept her lips locked. Sloane sighed a little and followed them to Renard’s office to give him an update.

“Knowing what they are and what will happen to them, we don't want to keep them locked up,” Nick said.

“You don’t, I’m rather indifferent,” Sloane said. He gave her a look and she held up a hand, gesturing she’d not harp on about that.

“They're not giving us much choice,” Hank sighed. “At the very least, they know what happened and didn't report it.”

“So they might know who did it,” Renard speculated.

“That's the problem, we think they're protecting somebody,” Nick said.

“I’d say their sister, but she saved Jake so that’s rather counterproductive in drowning men…” Sloane said.

“How much time do you think they have?” Renard asked.

“I doubt they'll survive the night,” Nick said, frustration mounting.

“And what about the girl who saved your victim from the river?”

“Can't find her,” Hank sighed.

Renard sighed as well. “So how do we explain two dead women in our holding cells? We can't very well say they're naiads.”

“We'll get blamed for something we had no control over,” Nick groaned.

“And they're playing a very serious game. If they're involved, what do we do, just let 'em go?” Hank asked.

“No. This is their problem, not ours. If they choose to die, we let the M.E. explain it. Just 'cause they're wesen, it doesn't entitle them to special treatment,” Renard said.

Sloane’s eyebrows ticked up, finding a little bit of respect for that. “…I can take care of them. Their bodies I mean.”

“Sloane—” Nick started.

“It’s not the first time I’ve made a body disappear,” she said, giving him a steady look. “And I don’t just mean hiding it for the police to find later, I mean making it disappear. I only leave bodies places I know I won’t get the blame for or it doesn’t matter when it’s found. If I have to, I make it gone.”

Nick and Hank stared at her for a long time with looks akin to horror, but Renard was nodding a little more considering than they liked. They were interrupted by knocking at the door and Wu opening it.

“Yeah?”

“The girls' father, Abel Mahario, is here,” he said, looking dubious. “Apparently, he wants to talk.” Sloane looked at Hank and Nick and then to Renard, who nodded to them.

They met Abel in an interrogation room and he got right to the subject at hand. “I killed that boy. I did it. You need to arrest me and let my daughters go.”

“How'd you kill him?” Hank asked, looking as doubtful as the rest of them.

Abel looked at him like he was stupid. “I drowned him.”

“Why?” Nick shot out.

“I have my reasons,” he ground out.

“I know you didn't do it for a cell phone,” Hank said.

“We know you want to save your girls, but we'd rather leave here with whoever's really responsible,” Nick said calmly.

“I am! I told you I did it! I-I pulled him underwater!”

“Were your daughters there too?”

“No.”

“Jake Barnes says they were.”

“Well, he's lying.”

“Why would he lie?”

“He just saw them,” Abel snapped.

“He knew their names,” Sloane said. “And recognized them. So they must’ve met, and they must’ve been there.”

Abel breathed deeply. ”I saw those two boys attacking my daughters, and I did what I had to.”

“So you're telling us you were saving your daughters?” Nick asked.

“They were being raped!” he spat out.

Sloane glared at him. She knew the truth and she despised someone trying to use something like a false rape allegation to try and justify cold blooded murder. Her hand twitched, she was close to grabbing him by the throat when Nick leaned in. “Then why did your other daughter pull Jake out of the water?”

Hank was right on his heels and Sloane was surprised when they started going back and forth questioning so fast even she could barely keep up. All the while they closed in on him. “Who gave you the black eye? Did you know she was there too? What time did you get there? How did you get there? You walk? Take a car? What did the other guy look like, the one you killed? Was he tall, short, fat, black, white? We need some details here. Why don't you take us to the place where it happened?”

Abel was sweating now and Nick folded his arms. “You see how difficult this gets when you're not telling the truth?”

“Why does it matter?” he asked desperately. “I'm offering my life for my daughters'.” Sloane blinked, staring at him a moment. Nick and Hank were already heading for the door and she stood to follow, but looked back at Abel who was looking close to breaking down.

“Not easy being a parent,” Hank said.

“Yeah, but it could be what we need,” Nick pointed out. “Those girls may be ready to throw their own lives away, but they might not be so willing when it's their dad's life they're dealing with.”

“Use his confession as leverage?” Renard asked.

“Might be just as tough being a daughter.”

He nodded slowly. “I guess we'll find out if it's a loving family.”

Sloane frowned again, feeling a momentary twinge inside her, but followed Nick and Hank to holding cells.

“Your father confessed to everything. You are free to go,” Nick said.

“What?” Anna asked, blinking in confusion.

“What did... what did he confess to?” they asked, moving slowly to the front of the cells. They were weak obviously, drying out more and more, and their voices were becoming raspy.

“The murder of Dan Hopkins and the attempted murder of Jake Barnes.”

“That's a lie,” Sarah said.

“You think we'd be letting you go if we didn't have a confession?”

She looked down, shaking her head. “No. This isn't right.”

“Sarah, they're letting us go,” Anna said as if trying to talk sense into her.

“And arresting dad? He'll die here.”

“We can talk about this at home,” she said, putting more meaning into her words.

“It's dad, Anna.”

“Sarah, don't.”

She looked down a moment before back up at Nick with determination. “Dominic did it.”

“Dominic?”

“And Jesse too. It's those two guys from the marina.”

Nick nodded to them and Hank moved to unlock Sarah’s cell while he went to unlock Anna’s. “They'll kill us, Sarah,” Anna said, looking at her with fear. When she turned try and exit the cell, she woged suddenly as she desperately tried to catch her breath, a chirping noise coming from her almost like a dolphin.

“They don’t have much time left,” Sloane said.

“We need to get you out of here,” Nick added.

Anna woged back and took a shaking step back, fear making her shake like gasping fish. “Sarah, they’re Grimms! You can't trust them!”

“I have no choice,” she said, resigned.

In the interrogation room once again, Sarah broke down what happened. Dominic and Jesse had apparently snuck to the river as well without the girls knowing. Dominic pulled Dan under, Jessie pulled Jake. The girls had chosen them to help start families, though they were with Dominic and Jesse.

“So you weren’t intending for those boys to die at the hands of your...partners?” Sloane asked, unsure what to call them.

“No! We don’t follow that tradition. At least dad doesn’t, but Dominic and Jesse still do…We didn’t know they did.”

“You didn’t know they followed those traditions until you were about to…?” Nick asked.

“No. We only just met face to face six months ago. Our relationships are arranged. We didn't think that they would actually do anything, we just... we just thought they were talking.”

“So this is some kind of ritual?” Hank asked.

“I think that's what they want us to think, but it's more about revenge.” She sighed and looked at them. “We can only conceive and give birth in the water. Naiad men are born sterile. They know we have to mate with other men. Otherwise, we'll die out. I mean, they're not very happy about it, but neither are we.”

“Well, I can see where that may cause a little bit of tension,” Nick said.

“Our men have to raise the children of other men. I mean, some of them are okay with it, but... Others aren't so... Accepting.”

“Men…” Sloane muttered, earning a look from Hank and Nick to which she stared back daring them to say something.

Nick’s phone rang and he pulled it out, frowning in confusion. “It's Jake.” He answered the phone. “Hello?” He listened, eyes widening a bit. “Stay where you are. We're gonna send some uniforms your way.” He hanged up and looked at the others. “Jesse and Dominic beat up Jake. Elly was there, and they took her.”

“Oh, my God, they're gonna cut her!” Sarah gasped.

“What?” Hank asked.

“They'll cut the telae between her fingers and toes.” She gestured with her hand between her fingers, where the webbings would be if she woged. “It’s how they used to banish those that broke our laws. It’s painful and disfiguring, but more than that she won’t be able to swim anymore, and that’s dangerous for us!”

“Where would they take her?” Nick asked.

“Where they can make an example out of her: Home.”

They quickly scrambled to get ready but Sloane paused and looked at her. “You mind being a widow?”

Sarah blinked but then gave her a hard look. “If they hurt my sister…cut their throats. Heck, do it anyway, I don’t want to see him again.”

Sloane smirked a little and quickly caught up with Nick and Hank.

\-----------------------

Getting to the marina, they were coming down the docks just in time to see Elly dragged into the water by rope tied to an anchor. One of the men, Dominic she assumed, was coming for them woged into his Naiad form.

“I got him, go get the girl!” Sloane yelled, getting in front of Dominic.

He sneered at her with his sharp, fish-like teeth. “You think you can take me, little lady?”

Sloane glared and rushed him, bringing her fist up into his face and sending him reeling back with his hands to his nose. “I’m Grimm, fish stick. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

He growled and tried to grab her but she ducked down, bringing her elbow into his side near his kidneys three times in quick succession before she had to dodge left. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Hank was duking it out with the other, and heard a splash as Nick dived into the water for Elly when she didn’t come up. Dodging another swipe from Dominic, she gasped as he tried to pull her into a bear hug. He was strong, her ribs protesting the squeeze. Glaring at him, she took as deep a breath as she could and then bit down on his gills, blowing into them. He screamed, letting go and pulling back at the suffusion of air through his system. Landing on her feet, Sloane swung around and kicked him straight across the temple, sending him down. He woged back to a human and Hank, having subdued Jesse and handcuffed him to a boat tie, rushed over to secure Dominic the same way.

“You okay?” he panted.

“Depends. Are you going to let me gut him like a fish?” she said, eying the prone man darkly.

He gave her a flat look. “No.”

She pouted but sighed, catching her breath. “Eh, I’ll live with the disappointment then…” She looked down at the water and frowned. “Nick…has Nick come back up?”

Hank looked out there as well and his eyes widened in panic. “Nick! Nick!”

Sloane felt her heart drop and she rushed over, looking at the water. She swallowed, the water dark and deep looking in the night. There was no way for her to be able to see him, even with Grimm sight. “Nick! Nick, get up here!” she yelled without thinking. “Please don’t make me go down there…” she added quietly.

Just then she saw a form coming to the surface and breathed out a sigh of relief when it was Nick with Elly in his arms. She coughed as Hank helped her out of the water and carried her away from the dock. Sloane reached down to help Nick, frowning at the chill and the pallor of his skin. Nick quickly headed over to Hank and Elly and she followed. Elly was coughing up water, apparently having been unconscious and unable to woge while she was under. Hank looked up at Nick worriedly and Nick noticed, looking at him in confusion.

“You alright?” Hank asked.

Nick looked shook his head in confusion, and Sloane was surprised when the paleness of his skin turned rosier before their eyes. “I’m thinking so.”

Hank looked worried still but turned to Elly, making sure she could see his lips. “You okay?”

She nodded shakily, shivering slightly. Hank stood and took off his Jacket, looking at Nick again. “We got Dominic and Jesse handcuffed. How do you want to deal with them?”

Nick shrugged as if it were obvious. “Lock 'em up.”

“They won't last long,” Hank pointed out as he draped his jacket around Elly.

“They should've thought about that before,” Nick spat.

Sloane smiled. “Well, happy ending all around then I think…”

“Not going to go after the Maharios?” Nick asked.

“I have a feeling you’d stop me if I did,” Sloane said. The look on his face said she was right and she sighed. “Plus…they aren’t the murders. I think they’ve learned a lesson about the old ways here, she saved a guy, the dad was trying to protect his daughters…I don’t know. I don’t feel good just killing them. Doesn’t feel honorable.”

Nick smiled a little and Hank did as well. He turned a worried look back to Nick however. “You know how long you were under that water? We thought you were dead. You sure looked like it when you came up.”

Nick looked anxious as well but before they could talk more, the Mahiros arrived and rushed to reunite with Elly. She gave Nick and Sloane a smile as her father hugged her tight and Sloane found she couldn’t help but smile a little back with Nick.

At the station, Jake viewed a lineup of men that included Dominic, who was sporting a nasty bruise along the right side of his face from Sloane’s boot. They were steel toe after all.

“Number three,” Jake said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Hank knocked on the glass three times and the lineup was dispersed, an officer taking Dominic away. Jake sighed and then groaned as he rubbed over his face.

“Look, can I... can I ask you guys something?”

They glanced at each other, having a feeling what this might be. “Sure.” Nick said.

Jake sighed again as he tried his best to collect his thoughts. “I-I'm not so sure how to say this, but... You know that girl that pulled me out of the water, Elly?”

“What about her?” Hank asked.

“Well, I don't know, but I saw something really strange.”

“Like what?” Nick asked.

“Like, I... Think she's, like, a mutant or something, some kind of, like, mermaid thing... I... ugh. Okay, I know how that sounds, believe me. I just... She came over and went to the pool and she just wasn't... Normal,” he said desperately.

“Nobody is, Jake. It's Portland,” Nick laughed, leaving the room with Hank in tow.

Sloane frowned at him disapprovingly and shook her head, closing the door. “Jake?”

“Yeah?” he said, sounding defeated.

“You aren’t crazy.”

He looked up. “I…I’m not?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to give you a very small run down of what’s happened from…a different point of view, alright? It’ll help make sense of all this. But, you also have to remember, it’s very unlikely anyone is going to believe you. So if you try to tell anyone outside this room…”

“I’ll be committed,” he guessed.

“More than likely. But as much as you’ve seen, I doubt you’re going to be able to just say it was your imagination.” She pulled up a chair. “Have you ever heard of a Naiad?”

“No…”

“Well, it is like a mermaid. You see…”

She spent about an hour explaining, in very limited detail, about what Elly and her family were. She didn’t mention other wesen, or even the word wesen, just letting him assume that Naiads were the oddest thing in the world. Jake was a bit shell shocked by the end but nodded slowly.

“So…Sarah and Anna didn’t know those guys were going to…?”

Sloane shook her head. “No. They do feel bad for what happened to your friend Dan, but no one was supposed to die when they took you to that beach. Ultimately we got those men because of the girls finally said so. And they are likely not going to live long.”

He nodded slowly. “Usually I’m kind of eh on capital punishment, but…” He sighed, thinking things over, then looked up. “…Am…am I going to be a dad?” he asked hesitantly.

Sloane shrugged. “Hard to say, as far as I know they otherwise adhere to normal anatomy rules and despite what my Phys Ed teachers tried to tell me, I know it’s not always a one and done kind of thing. We’ll have to see what happens. Either way, you have a choice here. You can just put this all in the back of your mind and live a normal life, let the Maharios deal with whatever comes up….”

“Or?” He asked uncertainly.

“Or…keep in touch. With Elly and the others. I’m not a fan of Naiads by any means, but… that family is tolerable at least. Close knit but progressive, I doubt I’ll have to worry about them much in the future. That Dominic and Jesse will end up dried out for what they did is good enough for me at least this time.”

Jake was quiet as he turned thoughtful. “I don’t know…”

“Well, no one says you have to decide now,” Sloane said, standing. “Just remember, no telling others. For your sake and theirs. Because if you start spreading information around and causing a panic,” she leaned in and gave him a piercing look, “then you become my problem.”

Jake gulped and nodded. “I-I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry…”

“Good. Glad we had this talk. I’ll show you out.” She led him out through the station and back out the front door before returning to her desk.

“Hey, everything okay?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, just took care of something, that’s all.” She paused in filling out her report and glanced at him. “You?”

Nick twitched a little. “Fine…”

They were quiet a second and Sloane looked back at the computer. “Good.”

“…You don’t like water, do you?” Nick asked suddenly.

Sloane froze and then slowly turned her head to him. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you. If you thought I was going to die or screw up, you’d have come after me in a second.”

“You don’t “know” me,” she started.

“Fine, from what I know of you, you’d have done that. But you didn’t. You stayed on the docks with Hank.”

“It was dark…”

“You can see better in the dark than Hank. I…could. Under the water too.”

Sloane straightened in surprise. “Huh…your Grimm abilities are coming fast then. And sharp.”

“So I know you would’ve been able to see fine,” Nick said, not falling for the change in subject.

Sloane frowned and then sighed a little. He was not going to let this go she knew and while she despised letting out information like this, she resigned herself. It was annoying that besides becoming an adept Grimm, he was also a good detective. “Fine, yes. I’m not a fan of water.”

“Can you not swim?”

“I can swim fine,” she snapped. “I just…dislike deep, open bodies of water. Pools are fine, just…lakes, oceans, large rivers like that…not a fan.”

“Why?”

“Hell if I know,” she growled. “Isn’t that what phobias are, unexplained fears?”

“I guess…”

“…I’m sorry I almost let you and…I guess the Naiad too, drown because of it,” she admitted. “I despise that stupid weakness…”

“Hey, it’s not stupid,” Nick said, a little thrown by her admission. “Really. I can see how it would be a little freaky…”

“Don’t patronize me,” she said with a glare.

“I’m not, I promise,” he held up his hands.

She snorted and turned back to her computer. “You tell anyone, you’ll pay,” she said.

“Remind me to take you to the aquarium sometime.”

Sloane glared and kept typing.

**Author's Note:**

> Next week is another original case! Tune in for what happens when beauty magic gets into the wrong hands.


End file.
